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Chastity
Name: Chastity Physical Age: 19 True Age: 148 Gender: Female Faction: Virtue Element: Ice 'Power' Chastity holds dominion over ice, being able to turn any liquid to ice, be it water, or even blood. Her main focus is the creation of barriers comprised completely of ice, however she is not above creating an ice-slick if that would help her defenses. Chastity can also create weapons, particularly spears, from ice and she has no qualms about turning droplets of water into needle thin blades that can and most likely will be hurled at her opponent. A favorite of Chastity's is to create a cage of ice to trap both friend and foe alike. 'Weapon' A simple, wooden quarterstaff 'Summon' Chastity’s summon, Shevernil is a fairly small dhole, standing at just 15 inches at the shoulder making her fully capable of settling on Chastity’s shoulders without much trouble. Shevernil’s fur is rusty red with subtle undertones of gold to it. The tips and backs of her ears fade from this rusty red-gold to black and the fur on her tail seems to shift between a darkened hue of the rusty red-gold that dominates her pelt to black. Her undersides are white with the fur on her paws fading to white at the toes, along with her lower jaw. This fading to white has given her the appearance of having a furry white ruff. Shevernil’s eyes though a muted shade of gold are lined in black making her appear as though her master took to doing so with kohl. If there was ever a calm to the storm Shevernil was it. Just as regal and elegant as her build suggests, this canine rarely, if ever raises her voice more than is necessary and when she does the change is barely noticeable. A tried and true diplomat, Shevernil is sometimes forced to silence Chastity's wagging tongue if only to save the young immortal from offending both human and immortal alike. Though most times her attempts prove futile in which case she merely stays close to make certain no one attempts to do more than scream and wail at the girl she's claimed as hers. 'History' Adamaris as she was called when she was still a mortal, lived a fairly uneventful childhood having grown up in the midst of wanderers. Gypsies if there was anything to ever compare them to. It was from these very same people that she eventually learned to craft her own pieces of jewelry, one of which remained with her even after her death and rebirth. Most of her time as a young child was spent apprenticing under one of her family’s jewelers, however by the time she was in her midteens, she had broken away from the jewelers and taken up the more widely known trade that her people were known for. Dancing and storytelling. At her age, Adamaris’s active mind spared no expense in weaving tales to enthrall those audiences that her family sold their wares to. Between weaving tales and learning and performing the dances that the nomads taught to her and her siblings, Adamaris’s life seemed to be as good as it was ever going to get. Though there were some people that accused them of being thieves, and to be sure those accusations had some truth to them when it came to the more nimble fingered children, there was never a shortage of people that were willing to allow them into their towns. It was during one of their stays in a small town that the first rumors of a small scale battle came to their attention and it wasn’t long before those rumors came to fruition. The small group of deserters that ripped through the town took everything they could get their hands on, raping and killing as they went. By the dawn, Adamaris was one of the few people left alive and the deserters wasted no time in hunting down the survivors, killing them as one would cattle. By some miracle or extreme stroke of luck Adamaris, though she was killed, escaped the fate that had befallen so many of the women in the town the night before. When she returned as a virtue, among the bloodied wreckage of the life she had known, she was quick to flee the scene after burying those she could. There was nothing more to be done for it, she had been brought back as an immortal, Chastity, and under Shevernil’s guidance she made her way to the Lightlands, residing in and around House Eternity for several decades before the wandering spirit that seemed to be in her blood set her feet back to moving again. By that time she had gained some marginal control over her powers and took some comfort in that as she set about on what would eventually become a normal route for her. First through the Lightlands, then to the ruins of Halodale and then to Indafell, coming to rest in a few of the towns along the way before she was set to wandering again. One venture to Lehaita very nearly cost her, her life on her way down from the mountains, Losthaven having been her chosen destination at the time. Whether it was by fate’s twisted sense of humor or simple misfortune, Chastity found herself met by bandits. Had they simply been human and human alone she might have been able to deal with them on her own, but there had been sins within the group. The sins had been intent on getting rid of her, wasting no expense in trying to kill her. The exact details of just how she escaped the situation alive are something she rather not remember and has chosen to willingly forget and subdue all memories of the incident. The only thing she does remember is the sight of bodies frozen in ice. After that she fled back to House Eternity and remained there for quite sometime before regaining the courage to venture out on her own again. In the time between her ventures she can be found either at House Eternity, the surrounding area or surprisingly in Indafell. 'Appearance' Standing at five foot seven, Chastity's pale, milky white skin with only the lightest dusting of pink at her throat, lips and other extremities, show her as one of the living. Despite the fact that much of Chastity's face is hidden by the hood of the black cloak she constantly wears, in the rare moments that she can be seen without it, one would find it hard not to notice the mostly silver eyes. At times though those same eyes seem to be flecked with other colors much in the manner of an ever shifting prism. Chastity's absurdly long, knee-length hair starts as a rich shade of aquamarine and slowly shifts to a much paler blue at the very tips. Some of her hair is usually left to fall free over her shoulders and down to well past her bottom while the rest is bound in a ponytail. If one were able to get a rare glimpse of the young immortal's back, a pale pink scar-like tattoo of floral design stretches from between her shoulder blades to just above her hips. Usually seen in a tattered, hooded cloak that half covers her face, Chastity's shirt exposes a fair bit of her midriff, strips of white leather criss crossing from where her shirt ends down to her waist. Her shorts are long enough to be decent but barely enough to be considered modest. Knee-high boots that are covered in scoff marks from her constant wandering round out her attire. 'Behaviour' Deep set emotional and mental scars are hidden beneath a guise of cheerfulness and disarming smiles and grins. In the midst of chaos and at the first signs of unrest, conflict or the like, Chastity is likely to try her best to negate it. Even if it’s directed at her, she’ll put on a smile and try to smooth things over. Sometimes this works, sometimes it doesn’t. When it doesn’t work, that is when she’ll dig her heels in and stand her ground. Chastity isn’t one that’s likely to allow herself to be pushed around and more often than not those that seek to bully her don’t get very far as they’re often met by the full force of her temper. The first hints at just how ‘broken’ Chastity’s mind sometimes is, comes first from her almost naïve level of trust. If she sees a glimmer of goodness in someone she’s willing to defend them. It is her sincerest belief that there is good within everyone, be they virtue, sin or human. Sometimes investing that much trust into someone backfires and other times it has been just enough to earn her a new friend or well respected rival on the battlefield. This idea of trusting people based on, what is sometimes, just one act of goodness has allowed people to manipulate and use Chastity on more than one occasion. Of course when it is shown that the offending party was merely using her, rest assured she will be out for revenge. For all her headstrong and cheerful tendencies, Chastity is not one without fears or moments of weakness. In the heat of battle she may be completely capable of killing her opponents but mercy often stays her hand and she is more than content to disable them rather than add even more blood to her hands. This very same spirit of mercy often comes into bearing time and time again in the midst of battle as she is not above ending the lives of those who are beyond the help of the most capable healers. While some may question it, Chastity calls it the smallest mercy she can grant as she has no knowledge of how to heal. She is not one to delight in bloodshed and has been reduced to tears and barely retaining the contents of her stomach after stumbling upon a battlefield or slaughter. Whether it is the act of killing itself or the rivers of blood that sing so clearly of what brought her to her doom as a mortal, no one knows. Even in stumbling upon such things she will try to put on a brave face, preferring to distance herself from her companions if able. She utterly detests having others bear witness to her tears and goes out of her way to avoid bestowing the burdens of her sorrow upon those around her. Sometimes it works and other times, she is simply unable to hold back her sorrows long enough to escape her companions. The best indication, perhaps, of the scars that Chastity seeks to hide is her aversion to touch and the even deeper aversion to being placed in situations or places that could have some vaguely implied meanings beyond simple gatherings etc. This aversion extends to people as well and relations that hint at going beyond simple friendships will find Chastity quickly distancing herself from them. Her aversion to touch is much more controlled than the other, and she can deal with hugs to a certain extent before she gets uncomfortable. Indications that someone might be coming onto her are usually met with the virtue fleeing and if such a thing isn’t possible lashing out in an attempt to distance herself from the offending party. Category:Characters Category:Virtues Category:Ice